Reboot
by FearWakesMeUp
Summary: CURRENTLY BEING EDITED Previously "Flaws In The Plan" Carl has never understood why they let strangers into the prison. But after meeting one, maybe he'll understand... Terrible summary. Just read!
1. Chapter 1

_**Ever**_

I had been running for way too long. Before all this shit went down, I was an _extremely _lazy person. Of course, I slightly regret not listening to my mother about physical activity and its importance, but too late now, right? My witch of a mother was far, far away from me. All she would've been useful for is getting people killed and wasting water because she needed to wash her hair. I'm very glad I left her behind.

For some reason, my mind kept drifting back to the day the apocalypse started. That day, I figured out a few things. One was that no matter what the situation was, my mother hated me and wanted me dead, along with her stuck up husband. The next was that I couldn't trust any piece of shit on this planet. Everyone eventually turns against you. I had to learn that the hard way. Finally, I learned that I was absolutely useless, according to everyone I've ever met. Even just walking down the street, and suddenly everyone is walking away from me. Was I that terrible? Did I do something bad before, something I don't remember?

So here I was, running faster than I thought I could, down a cracked and lonely highway. To be completely honest, I had no clue whatsoever where I was going, but did that matter? I mean, it seems like every turn you'd ever make would be your final footstep, or that when the suns sets one night it would be your last glance of light. The zombies would be the last thing you see, or a man with a gun. My side tingled at the thought of a gun. I always hid a small pistol in my waistband, and pretended it wasn't there. It has proven to be very useful.

Obviously, the times I had to use it were scarring and mentally damaged me. But the horror never stopped there, because you would past people. Survivors, who needed help. Maybe even a little water, a push forward. And I passed them, every time, just as I was now. These people had their skin hanging off there fleshless skeletons, looking like fresh corpses. I had to ignore these people all the time. It was terrible what they went through everyday. They would beg for my help, grab at my ankles or attempt to rob me of my few belongings. None of them had a strategy to survive. And soon, mine wouldn't work. I could run forever, and I knew that. But the thought of finding a home motivated me to sprint faster. There was some walkers trying to eat me, but I paid them no attention. They weren't worth my bullets.

But something made me freeze. I easily sliced the zombies heads off with the blade under my sleeve. I turned my head towards the side of the road. One small family sat huddled together, not pleading for my assistance, but instead, holding hands. I noticed one of the children, the youngest of three, had a large gash in his side. Bitten. The father, I suppose, was holding up a gun, aiming it at his son. All I could do was watch in horror. But when he finally pulled the trigger with a trembling finger, it was aimed at his own head. The rest closed their eyes as the gun was passed around. Each gunshot made me flinch.

Then there was silence. A terrible, eerie silence that made you regret and rethink all of your life choices.

I hated quiet. It gave me too much time to think, and I didn't need that time. Oh, the regrets. The actions made. Rash decisions. Thinking about that will make a sane person mental. I didn't want to think about anything. Sometimes, like today, I just want to float up like smoke and disappear into the clouds. In other terms, kill myself. That always nagged at the back of my mind. Why don't I just die? I'm alone anyway. I'd be doing the world a favor. Someone lucky could come by and use my stuff. They'd be happy, I'd be happy. But every time I pressed my gun against my temple, I can never pull the trigger.

I hadn't realized how long I had been standing there until I blinked. How long had I dozed off?

"Hands up, drop you weapons." A deep voice rang out behind me. When I turned around, I was shocked to find that the voice belonged to a boy my age. He had brown hair that swooped to one side, and a dark sheriffs hat sitting on it. His skin was tanned lightly, and the worst thing about him was that he had a gun aimed at my face. "Didn't you hear me? Drop your weapons!" He repeated.

"Damn. If I had any, don't ya think I would, dipshit?" I replied slyly. "And fuck no I am not putting my hands up. Who are you, a cop?"

He scowled at me, which was very frightening. But I didn't flinch. I wasn't afraid of this, not even if he looked ready to blow open my head. "Listen up, bitch, but I need your stuff. And there is no way in hell you've survived without a gun or knife." He growled. "You should probably listen to me before things get ugly."

I bowed sarcastically, not showing any fear. But it was starting to creep up on me. "Of course, your honor. Shoot me. I dare you."

He poised the trigger at me, right in between the eyes. He just might do it. Maybe...

"Scared? That's what I thought." I provoked. I was beginning to have fun with this. "I want to die."

That last part was an accident, but I didn't take it back. The boy lowered the gun slightly.

"You know, I really hate you. Dammit, it's not that hard to give up."

"Fuck off!"

"I have a camp. With food. And shelter. And people."

"You just said you hated me." Now I was confused. What the fuck was he trying to do? Bipolar bastard. "Explain?"

He sighed. "Look, we got off to a rough start. I'm Carl. I have a camp just down a path. You have food. Food we need. We also need more people. So, are you willing to come with me and help us out?"

Carl seemed honest enough. But I swore to myself not to trust anybody. Could I handle this? If things get rough, I could always run away. His icy blue eyes were narrowed at me. "I really wouldn't care if you decided not to. You could help me out by leaving. You're just another mouth to feed."

If things get rough, I'll leave.

"Okay , I'll join. Just to annoy you." I used my signature 'I'm already think of was to piss you off' smirk, which made him snort and roll his eyes. I pushed a strand of golden curls out of my eyes and followed him down the highway.

**Carl**

I just needed some air.

My dad said go find food.

Or shelter, even.

Bring back SOMETHING.

But a girl? That was not on my agenda.

* * *

I walked down a dirt path from the prison. It was a long trail, but too thin to be a road. So I'd imagine it was a hiking trail.

I made it to the end of the trail and was now facing an abandoned highway. The cracks in the concrete made it look like a spiderweb. But amongst the silent road, was a THUMPING.

Footsteps.

Curiosity was terrible, in the apocalypse, but it was only ONE pair of footsteps.

I crept onto the street just as the mystery figure appeared.

A girl, about my age, was running away from something, it seemed. She had curly, long, golden blonde hair that flew up behind her as she ran. I followed her, creeping in the shadows. This girl could be dangerous.

But the mistake was made. I hit a tree branch.

"Oh, shit!" I muttered. The girl didn't turn around, luckily. She was preoccupied with a family on the side of the road.

At the sound of a gunshot, I ducked down instinctively. Not just one.

But five.

I was afraid to look up.

It would be disgusting.

Had someone shot the girl down?

I peeked over the rock I hid behind and saw the girl staring in horror at the bodies of the family, all slumped forward. The realization hit me and my eyes widened. Oh.

I snuck out from behind the bush. She didn't seem to have a weapon, or one that was visible. I kept my gun in my belt as stepped forward.

Another step across dirt patch.

Would she kill me?

Worth figuring out, and she probaly won't. She looked underfed and pale.

I took another cautious step toward her than...

She flinched.

My instincts kicked in, and I shouted "Hands up, drop your weapons."

She whipped around, but didn't panic when she saw my gun aimed at her face. Of course, her aquatic eyes narrowed when she saw me, but she didn't move.

"Didn't you hear me? Drop your weapons!"

It was bad, but I was letting all my anger out on this innocent girl. Probably innocent. I felt so much bitterness release from me, it was sweet relief. Just not to her.

"Damn. If I had any, don't ya think I would, dipshit?" She replied slyly. "And fuck no I am not putting my hands up. Who are you, a cop?"

"Listen up, bitch, but I need your stuff. And there is no way in hell you've survived without a gun or knife." I growled. She was really pissing me off."You should probably listen to me before things get ugly."

"Of course, your honor. Shoot me. I dare you." She bowed sarcastically and waited. Was she being serious?

"Scared? That's what I thought." She provoked me. I had aimed the gun in between her eyes..."I want to die."

I lowered the gun. She's suicidal? I gulped. Not worth the bullet.

"You know, I really hate you. Dammit, it's not that hard to give up." I replied.

"Fuck off!"

"I have a camp. With food. And shelter. And people."

"You just said you hated me." She was obviously confused. What the fuck was I saying? "Explain?"

I sighed. Lets start this over. "Look, we got off to a rough start. I'm Carl. I have a camp just down a path. You have food. Food we need. We also need more people. So, are you willing to come with me and help us out?"

She hesitated. I accidentally said something I didn't mean, "I really wouldn't care if you decided not to. You could help me out by leaving. You're just another mouth to feed."

"Okay , I'll join. Just to annoy you." I rolled my eyes at her and she smirked, feeling accomplished.

We set off down the path when I noticed something. It had been a relatively quiet walk.

"Hey, I just realized, what's your name?"

She glanced up at me. I was a few inches taller.

"Ever. Ever-"

**_GRRRRRAAAA_**

The sound of biters turned us both around. Nasty, rotting zombies stumbles yards away from where we stood. I grabbed my gun from its holder and turned to Ever. "Do you have a gun? Or knife?" She shook her head. "I have something,though." Her hand lashed out and from her sleeve produced a shining silver blade.

I would of just stared in awe if the zombies weren't next to us. One swung its disgusting arm at me. I shot it in the forehead, and really don't want to go into details there, but it died. Guts splattered everywhere, and dark blood covered the dirt. I shot two more before glancing at Ever.

She had just beheaded a women's corpse and was now stabbing one through the chest. I saw its hand move and shot it, not taking any risks. We stood there panting until Ever spoke up. "Thanks. For everything. Sorta."

It wasn't sarcastic, surprisingly.

We were both covered in lots of zombie gore. It was great. We both smelt like a murder scene. Ever had a smudge of blood on her cheek, and her gray t-shirt was covered in rotten insides.

"We look like we killed a fat guy." She said bitterly, but I still smiled.

Just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever

"-and that's why I never left the house again."

Carl was an okay guy. I had just told the story of how my mom put me in a private school with a uniform and I had blew up the science lab on purpose. We were walking down a narrow dirt path I remember seeing when I was running away from walkers before. Since we didn't have much room to walk side by side, I was a foot behind him. Although I couldn't see his face, I knew he was listening.

It was good to have someone who listened. Someone to talk to.

Carl fell behind a step, so that he was walking next to me. It was a little cramped but I don't mind.

"It's safe at the prison. Right?" I asked nervously. "Who else is at the prison?"

Carl smiled slightly. "Well, my dads there. He's sort of the leader-" He waved his arms dramatically and I laughed, "-and then there's Daryl, he's the badass." The name Daryl ringed a bell but I ignored it.

"Hmm. There's Michonne, and she's the best. Awesome. She brings me candy, but don't tell anyone. Glenn and Maggie. Their married. Maggie has a sister, Beth. And...well, everyone's great. Don't worry."

We walked a little more until the trees cleared up and a large building came into view. Carl was smiling proudly. I was staring in awe at the most reinforced place ever.

There was a tall metal fence surrounding a huge stone...prison. One part of the fence was held up by large metal and wooden sticks. Outside of the two gates leading inside was a crisscross of pointed wooden logs, as if the rest wasn't enough.

My jaw must've hit the muddy floor, because Carl was chuckling softly at my expression. I turned him in shock.

"Carl! I thought you were exaggerating!"

"Ya know, you could stay here. But..."

"But what?"

"Wouldn't you want to go inside first?" He said, smiling eagerly at me, like he was showing me some huge secret hideout.

"Yes!" He bowed jokingly.

"Ladies, first."

I haven't laughed in a while, I realized.

So I laugh.

Michonne

"Rick, its dead. There's nothing we can do." I fingered at the handle of my blade, hanging on my back. The pig had a large gash on its belly, reason currently unknown.

"Are you _positive_ its dead?"

"Yes. I'm positive it's dead."

"We'll maybe Carol could..."

I stopped listening soon enough. I looked near the entrance of the fence.

And smiled.

At the gate, Carl was talking to a girl, laughing even. The girl I can assume he found while he was taking a walk.

To see Carl laughing was strange. Considering it was the apocalypse, there's not much to laugh about.

Rick must've noticed I wasn't paying attention. He turned to me with his eyebrow raised.

"What's got you smiling?"

I jerked my head toward the two. Ricks gaze lingered over there until it landed on them. Now, both his eyebrows were raised.

"Should we go to meet them?"

I sighed and said sarcastically,

"No, lets leave them outside with the walkers. Yes, let them in!"

Carl

"Exactly my point, the walkers try to reach the gate, and they get impaled by the sticks." I pretended to be a zombie, putting my arms out and imitating a zombie getting stuck on the wooden spikes.

"You make a great zombie, ya know." Ever pointed out, laughing. I smiled mischievously and chased her around in my still zombie form.

"Ahem," a voice came from the now open gate. We both froze. "Hurry up, before the walkers get you."

"Hey Michonne!"

Ever eyed Michonne with curiosity while we stepped through the gate. She seemed a little hesitant, but I think she trusted ME enough to follow us into the prison yard.

Dad was there, too. He raised an eyebrow at me, as if to say _what happened_? I answered with mouthing _I'll explain later_.

Once we reached the picnic table in the courtyard, Ever finally spoke.

"Hi, um, I'm Ever."

Michonne smiled sweetly at her, not in a girly way, but in a _you're new so I have to be on you're good side _kind if sweet.

"Hi, Ever, I'm Michonne. Where did you come from? I mean, before this, were you alone?"

Ever shrugged. "Well, I've always been alone. Just...on the run." My eyes widen, and she noticed. "Wait for the most shocking part. I came down here from New York."

"New York?! Alone?!" Dad asked in shock.

"Um, I had two dogs with me. A pit bull, no one messes with a pit bull."

I spoke up. "You were alone when I found you..."

"He was attacked a few minutes before you came, that's why I was running. Zambies." She pursed her lips and shrugged.

To break the tense silence, Dad said, "So guys, dinner?"

* * *

"Carl..." My dad sighed. "You hate her?"

"Yea!" I said, a little too loudly.

"Then why did you bring her back? She's just another mouth to feed." We were getting nowhere fast. "Well, she's a good fighter. Power in numbers, right?" I tried to explain. The only reason I honestly wanted her to stay was for company. We got off to a rough start, sure, but we could change that...Shes the only person here that's my age. Except Patrick, but he was always with the kids.

"Fine." Rick sighed again. "You're in charge of her, though. Besides that, I'm headin' on a food run with Glenn and Daryl tomorrow. I don't know how long until I get back. We're leaving Hershel in charge of everyone. Don't leave the prison." Today was an exception of the rule, due to me feeling a little sick.

* * *

"Three questions. That's it. Then, you can stay here." Of course, if I had it my way, Ever would stay anyway. Sure, it was a safety precaution, but what would she do?

"I can handle three questions. Just nothing personal, okay?"

"Don't worry, it's just like 'how many walkers have you killed?' And stuff around that."

"That question requires math! The only pro to the zombie apocalypse is there's no math!" I laughed.

We walked toward cell block C. Ever would be bunking with me, taking the top bunk (Michonne made terrible kissy-faces at me). It was a little chilly, and in the fading darkness looked a little creepy, but Ever was looking at this place with so much enthusiasm it was contagious. The stone floor silenced our footsteps for the ones who skipped dinner. Cells blocked with sheets tacked to the iron doors were drifting slightly. A single window at the top of the stairs provided the light, so you could see the swirls of dust.

"Ya know, Carl, I actually like it here."

"Did you ever doubt it?"

Ever paused. "Yeah. I learned to not trust anyone. But, I may make an exception. Just once."

We reached my room and a gestured for her to go in. She stood of to the side of the room, taking in every detail with wide blue eyes.

"Cozy." She said simply. That would not be my choice of words, considering we were standing in a jail cell during the apocalypse.

"You have the top bunk. I have the bottom." Ever looked ready to pass out on the floor."But lets eat dinner first." At the mention of food, she perked up like she was electrocuted. The dark circles under her eyes seemed a but more vibrant, along with her tanned face and full lips. All in all, this girl was the walking dead.

Just not dead.

Ever

I'm extremely tired but food was acting like caffeine. I wanted a cheeseburger.

I doubt they have cheeseburgers.

Dinner ended up being a vegetarian soup, with bitter tasting broth and chopped up carrots and other various vegetables. The portion wasn't large, either.

And yet, it still looked like a meal fit for a king.

I was the first finished to no ones surprise, and although I wanted one, didn't ask for a second helping. Others were more important than me, and I was new and didn't want to come off greedy. I wasn't full, but not starving.

And that's all I could ask for.

But my feast was completely ruined when a terribly familiar face appeared.

One I haven't seen in so many years, I forgot what he looked like.

Carl told me the people that were here.

And one name ringed a bell.

That, of course, was Daryl.

When he came in, he was greeted by "Hello"s and "How was the food run?"s, but my only response was narrow my eyes at him. Carl looked at me suspiciously, but said nothing.

Daryl turned to me. I said nothing. Neither did he. The tension in the room was heavy, and I realized everyone had stopped talking and eating.

"Ever."

I was going to explode. No, "Hey kiddo! Long time no see!" or "Ever you've grown! Great to see you!", just Ever. And I did explode.

"Really? That's all you're going to say?! It's been like, 3 years dude. A hi would be nice or something!" Daryl sighed. "Hi Ever."

"You can do better than that."

"Fine." He relaxed his shoulders. "Hey kiddo. What are you doing in Georgia?" He rustled my hair.

The entire room stared at us in confusion. We were sharing a hug, short, but still enough.

Carl was the first to break the silence, "Are you guys going to explain?"

Since I was done talking, Daryl spoke. "Well, um, Ever here is my niece," They waited for the story to continue. "My brother, er, her father, um, had a daughter. So, she and her mother moved to the big city to start over."

My voice came out quietly. "Mom started over. Not me." My gaze was elsewhere. I didn't ask questions about my father. Why should I care? I never even met him. The only contact close to him was Uncle Daryl. And when did I see him? Never.

Okay, maybe that one time when we took a connecting flight to Florida and visited him in between flights.

"Well, don't just stare at us, eat!"

Carl

"Ever!" I complained. Why did she not tell me her last name was Dixon?

We were in my room, or ours. I was sitting on my bed and Ever was sitting across from me. We used my flashlight and hiding under the blanket.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was in the middle of telling you when we were attacked. I just...try to forget that my family could still be living." She cuddled herself, bringing her knees to her chest. I sighed and frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to be intrusive. I just would like to get to know you. You're the only other person around my age here. I'm 14."

"I'm 13, but my birthdays soon. Or I might be 14. Depends on the date."

"It's somewhere in the beginning of November right now, I think."

Ever smiled. "Oh! Then I am 14!"

I smiled, too. "Happy belated birthday,"

In the light of the flashlight, I could see the drooping look in her eyes.

"C'mon, lets get you to bed." She didn't protest, just slipped off my bed and reached for the top of her bunk. But just as her fingertips reached it, she stopped. Ever turned to face me, slightly embarrassed look crossing her face.

"Umm, thank you. For everything you've done. And, well, I was wondering. Can I call this place home for at least a little bit?"

I stood up and held out my arms. She stepped forward and hugged me, resting her face on my shoulder. It was weird, because I've never really hugged anyone since my mom died.

"Of course. It was no problem at all." Okay, so that was a lie.

And with that, we climbed into our appropriate beds and fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Flashback  
_

_"Ever! Ever!" A little girl no older than 6 shook her older step-sister vigorously. "Ever!" She hissed._

_It was 2 in the morning. The house wasn't quieter than a mouse, though. There was a terrifying groaning coming from downstairs._

_"What...? Cecelia..! What are you doing up? It's past midnight!" Ever, dressed in pajamas and her hair in a_ messy_ bun, wanted to sleep. But now she probably wouldn't be able too. "... What's that awful noise? Sweetie, go get your older brother."_

_Cecelia rushed out of the bedroom she shared with Ever to the second floor of the condo._

_Meanwhile, Ever was grabbing a flashlight and baseball bat. She didn't play baseball, but having a baseball bat made her seem athletic. She crept toward the source of the noise, the front door._

_Behind her, Jack, her step-brother, put a hand over Cecelia's frame protectively. Neither kid figured out why their parents hadn't woke up. Ever gripped the bat and opened the front door into the empty hallway. The groans were louder now as they continued down the hall until they saw a oak door. Jack shoved in front of the group. With a shaking hand, he opened the door._

_The groans were more like a wailing by now._

_Cecelia realized it first. They were creeping down a pair of dark stairs into the basement. Ever's flashlight created a small beam. Jack glanced around the storage basement, until his eyes landed on the horror. A corpse, rotting flesh dangling from its face, arms completely bones, eyes a milky white. Only half of its body remained, trapped under the furnace._

_"J-Jack! What i-is that!" Ever cried. She had always admired her older brothers bravery, so seeing him scared made her even more scared. As if it couldn't get worse, a creak on the stairs made Cecelia jump up and knock the other two siblings off balance._

_Jack and Ever bounced down the remaining stairs. The dead thing struggled harder and moaned in ear splitting shrieks. The bat rolled out of Evers hand and across the stone floor with a loud clattering sound._

_Everything after that was worse._

_Cecelia raced forward to grab the bat._

_Jack cried out in protest against his sister._

_Ever let out a heartbreaking scream as the zombie pounced forward and sent his black teeth into Cecelia's neck._

_Jack lashed out and grabbed the bat, smashing the zombies head open with one swing._

_Silence._

_He dropped to his knees next to Cecelia. She was lying perfectly still, big hazel eyes open and lifeless._

_"C-Cecelia!" Ever choked out. "No! Wake up, wake up! No..."_

_Jack cradled her in his arms. Quick footsteps hurried down the stairs._

_"CECELIA! WHAT HAVE YOU TWO DONE?" Amanda cried. "You..." She pointed at Ever. "YOU LITTLE BITCH! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"_

_"W-WHAT? MOM-!"_

_"SHUT UP!" She slapped her daughter across the face._

_Ever began having a panic attack._

_And kept hearing the sound of knuckles on skin._

_She couldn't breathe-_

"EVER!" She woke up breathing heavily. She was met by a pair of icy blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" Carl asked softly.

She took a deep breath. "I think so. It was just a nightmare..." Ever said, her voice smaller than usual.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He knew he was pushing it. But curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Yea, actually. I need to get this off my chest." Her moonlit eyes drifted down, and she saw the Carl was standing on his bunk to see her. "Hey, lets take a walk."

"It's the middle of the night. We shouldn't go outside,"

She shrugged. "Who cares? Just, bring a gun."

He sighed but agreed. Carl helped her off the top bunk and pulled his gun off his night stand. Ever straightened out her old clothes and pushed her curls down. The moonlight from the hallway caught one strand of her hair, making it seem white. The two silently slipped out into the empty hallway. They gray walls were illuminated in white light. Dust swirled through the beams of moonlight like water. It was so...peaceful. A quiet neither teen was used to.

* * *

Carl

We walked down the narrow pathway, out to the abandoned highway, and to the dried grass field where I met Ever so long ago.

We both sat on the other side of the road with her head in her knees. Ever had curled up into a little ball, sitting on her loose grey tee. I could tell her eyes were closed and was in a whole other world. She was fumbling with something in her hands, turning it over in the fading moonlight.

I crouched down on the grass next to her. "What are you doing?" I asked softly. Ever looked up and shrugged. "Fighting some personal demons, that's all."

She laid down on the dirt and looked up. I joined her and put my hands behind my head. "I have an idea," Ever glanced at me curiously, edging me on. "You tell me something about you, I'll tell you something about me." She nodded slowly. "I can do that."

"I'll start. My whole name is Carl Grimes." She smiled slightly. "Cool last name. My whole name is Everly Dixon," "Everly? I've never heard of that name before. I like it." "Thanks. My mom was so stubborn naming me. The nurse was suggesting other names, but my mom would say 'I want my daughter to at least have an original name'. Those were her exact words."

"Lets pause the game. Tell me more about yourself." I asked, staring up at the tiny stars appearing above us in the dark sky.

Ever took a deep breath before starting, "My name is Everly Marilyn Dixon. I'm 14 years old and was born in New Orleans in 2000. I hate being outside. I love sleeping, but can never fall asleep. I love food, but I'm still pretty underweight-" she lifted up her tank top a little and smiled "-as you can see. My moms name was-is-Amanda Grace Monroe. I'm an only child." She sighed, not meeting my eyes.

"No, Ever. That's not enough."

She bit her lip nervously and gulped. "Ok." She responded in a tiny voice. "My full name is Everly Marilyn Dixon. My mother gave birth to me in 2000, and we lived in Florida then. My father...I got his last name, even though my parents weren't married. My mom made my middle name Marilyn because her last name is Monroe, and she said that it would make an attempt to make me seem prettier. She hated me, all she loved was her appearance. She was very pretty, though. Darker hair, clear skin, the ugliest thing about her was her personality. Mom married a man named Peter Aberly-Chase when I was 6. They had a daughter soon after the wedding. My two step siblings were Jack and Cecelia. They were rich, but we still lived in a condo in New York City. I think my mother got us bankrupt buying herself new clothes and cosmetics." Ever laughed bitterly. "The witch. I remember stealing her makeup. With all the stuff she had she never noticed. I'd hide dark circles under my eyes, bruises from her. If mom ever found out, she'd throw me into the attic and lock me up there all week. Didn't even feed me. I think that explains why I survived so long without food. Anyway, she'd tell the school I was sick when they would call asking where I've been all week. Lets just say I was sick a lot."

"I grew up in a relatively poor family. But, I guess I should tell you about my nightmare. When I lived in New York, I had a older step-brother and a younger half-sister. The the day this started, there was a walker in our in our basement. My sister went to check out the noise and we came along. M-my sister got b-bit, and my mother found out, and she beat me-" she took a deep breath "-I have a sc-scar from it. I can never forget it. It was my fault, mine. I deserved to be hit...Do you think I'm a monster?"Ever finished, tears brimming her blue-gray eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and sat up. "Was that good for now?"

Her voice cracked. I sat up after her and pulled her into my arms. "Your safe now. No ones going to hurt you as long as I'm here. Okay?" She sobbed into my chest and nodded weakly. "Th-thank you. The p-past is in the past. I g-guess its stupid to worry about that now." I held her tighter, rocking her gently until she calmed down.

A groan sounded across the street from us, signaling us to leave. I helped her up, and keeping an arm around her, we walked in a comfortable silence back to the prison.

* * *

**"**Dad, I don't want to tell Ever about him. She just got here and that's too scary to tell her, at least for now."

Rick sighed in defeat at our failed attempt of fertilizer. We were at the farm, observing the remaining pigs roll around in mud, checking the crops. Usual farm stuff.

"You'll have to tell her eventually. She seems tough, I think she can handle it. But, if it bothers you so much than you should be talking to Daryl." The shock that Daryl had a niece was still floating around the prison like a ghost. In comparison, they looked nothing alike. His hair was dark while hers was bright. He had a tall muscular build while hers was lean. The only thing similar about them was the light eyes and sarcastic personality, that is, when Daryl uses humor.

I sighed. "Then I'll find Daryl, I guess."

* * *

Finding Daryl wasn't very hard. He was crouched down beside his motorcycle, brushing dirt off the front and sides with a black bandana. I wasn't exactly sure what to ask him though. 'Hey Daryl can I tell your only living known family member about the potential threat that would be the governor?" didn't really cut it.

"Hey Daryl," I started, standing on the opposite side of his bike. He glanced up at me, squinting against the sun.

"Oh, hey there Carl. What can I do for you?" He asked, putting his hand up against the sun.

"I was wondering," I didn't know how to put it. "Should we tell Ever about the governor...?" I asked cautiously. I didn't know what he felt about her, if he cared at all.

A mischievously smile crept onto his face. "Why do you suddenly care about her...?"

"You're worse than Michonne!" I groaned. "And she's new, so..."

Daryl sighed. "Don't tell 'er yet. But give her hints, break it down. Knowing Ever, she'd be out of here anyway."

"Why?"

"Florida. She lived down there, and the rumor is that its safer there."

And with that, he turned back to his bike.

Ever

Carl thinks I'm crazy when I say it, but the prison is actually a huge improvement on my past living conditions. It's a little depressing, quiet, and lonely, but it beats being in the open anytime. Gray walls, floors, and doors. Chipping paint in some rooms. Iron bars covering every room.

Home sweet home.

The best thing is my bed. Did I mention I'm lazy? My bed was sagging, but I haven't had a bed for 3 years. I even have a blanket.

The feed everyone here. It's only been 2 weeks since I've had a full meal, just little snacks here and there.

But, of all those things, the one I cherish the most is that there are people here. Not just any people, though. People that don't shoot at you for a bottle of water. People that will laugh with you, not at you. I've even made a few friends.

The first, obviously, would be Carl. He did bring me here. I'm pretty sure I owe him a lot. He's really sweet, too. Dare I say, he's also cute. He's showed me around, and really taken care of me. I am extremely grateful for that.

Next would be Beth. She's older than me by a few years, but is always with the children. She's so innocent, but can be a badass. Besides that, she always looks on the lighter side of things. Unlike me.

Last but certainly not least, is Michonne. Carl was right, she's awesome. One thing I share with her is the 'don't give a shit' attitude. Again, a complete all-around badass.

"Ever?" A slightly deep voice echoed through the hall from behind me. Speak of the devil, Carl came up from behind me. I couldn't really read his facial expression, which always seemed heavily guarded. "Hey, where have you been all day?"

I shrugged. "Just around. Exploring this place. It's quite big."

Suddenly, he blurted out, "Have you ever heard of the governor?"

That name made me laugh.

"Of course. A year ago I robbed him."

Carl's expression was absolutely priceless. But I wasn't kidding. I broke into the isolated section and stole food.

And a gun. But that's another story.

He stared at me in disbelief.

"And you're still alive,"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"...Wow. Okay. I need a second to process that."

The 'governor' guy was actually someone I've talked to. Well, not an actual conversation. More like:

'Wha-! Hey kid! Get back here!'

'Fuck off old guy!'

But, you get what I mean.

I laughed at Carl while he stared blankly at me.

Carl

Ever was the strangest person I have ever met in my entire 14 years of living. So far, two stories she's told me were:

Ever blew up a science lab with Chapstick and foundation.

Ever robbed the baddest man and told him to fuck off.

I'm going to make sure those to never meet.

We walked down a flight of stairs outside. In Evers case, skipped down the stairs. She had to answer the 3 questions that would allow her to stay in the prison. Her perky mood was unusual.

"Why are you smiling, Ever? You might be kicked out of the prison,"

She smiled wider. "I'm thinking of alternatives to answer the zombie questions." She laughed at a joke in her head just as we opened the door leading outside.

Rick was waiting there, alongside Daryl and Carol. They got straight to the point.

"Question one: how many walkers have you killed?"

Ever pretended to do the math in her head. "As many as I need to."

"Question two: how many people have you killed?"

She paled. "Two."

"Question three: why did you kill them?"

She averted her eyes down. "One was bitten. The other...it was kill or be killed," she said coldly.

Daryl, Carol, and Rick exchanged glances and came to a silent agreement. I got a little nervous. She killed two people, would that influence them in the wrong way? She had valid reasons! Carol raised her eyebrow at me. I realized how worried I seemed. I shook my head slightly, attempting to clear the negative thoughts. Why did I care? It's nice to have her around, and I like her, and she's funny. But I can't care about someone, because eventually?

People die.

Ever broke the tense silence with, "Wow, gee, leave me in the suspense. This isn't The Price is Right! Can I stay or not?"

"Sure, kiddo. Stay." Daryl says, smiling. Ever sighed in relief and I silently fist pumped the air in joy.

* * *

Once we were back in our cell/room, we had a mini celebration. It involved colored glass over a flashlight and imitating Michonne. Eventually, Michonne came to tell us to shut up, but gave in to our pleading and joined our party.

The only thing that would of made the night better was pudding.


End file.
